


Down Came the Spider

by Starks-Sweetheart (raebands)



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Aftercare, Broken Bones, Claustrophobia, Coming In Pants, Coming Untouched, Consensual Kink, Dark, Fear of heighs, M/M, Safeword Use, Sweet Tony Stark, Tony gets off on Peter's fear, Watersports, fear kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2020-10-26 11:30:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20741495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raebands/pseuds/Starks-Sweetheart
Summary: Tony is exploring Peter's fear kink, and ends up going a little too far.





	Down Came the Spider

**Author's Note:**

> This gets a little bit messed up, okay. Not gonna lie. But it ends well. I promise.

Peter likes to be scared. He likes to be hurt and scared. 

Tony learns everything that scares him. He finds that the boy is, oddly, afraid of extreme heights. He's scared of being left alone. And he's absolutely terrified of being trapped.

So Tony builds a little box. A tiny little box. The kind that Peter can just barely fit into.

He shoves him into it, smirking when Peter starts to cry and scream. Laughs when he locks the door closed and can hear Peter start to hyperventilate inside it.

And he carries him up to the top of the tallest building he can find. 

He briefly opens the little box, just enough for Peter to see where he is. Enough for him to feel the wind whipping through the little crack. 

Then he locks the box again.

Tony scoots the box to the very edge of the building. To the point where if Peter moved too much, he could feasibly make it fall right off. 

Then he stands away from it. He moves to where Peter won't be able to hear him breathe. Won't be able to see his shadow.

And he waits. 

Peter stays remarkably calm for a little while. Tony can tell that he's concentrating as hard as he can, though. He can tell that Peter has to control everything that's happening. He's fighting to stay calm.

And he relishes when Peter eventually simply can't hold it back anymore. 

The boy starts to panic. He bangs against the tiny box as hard as he can. At first he just calls out for Tony. He needs to get out. He's trapped, and he's scared. This isn't fun. It isn't funny anymore. He isn't enjoying it. He just wants to leave.

Then Peter starts to scream. He screams for Tony to let him out. He pleads, begging in every way he can think of. He doesn't even realize just how hard he's getting. The idea of being left alone, trapped in this tiny box and very close to real danger - death, even - has aroused him.

Peter keeps fighting against the box, crying and screaming. Pleading for Tony to let him out. But he doesn't. Tony has no intention of letting him out at all. This is far too fun. 

He moves a little bit closer, just to be able to hear Peter's sounds better. And he's making the most beautiful sounds. He whimpers as he fights against his situation.

He gives it everything he's got. He's so terrified. When he feels the first tip of the box, just teetering slightly on the edge of the building, he groans. Not a bad groan. Not at all. It's a lovely groan. A pleasured groan. The groan that Peter makes when he cums.

Tony bites his lip, eyes closing for a moment as he palms himself through his pants. He can hardly believe that Peter gets off on this sort of thing. He loves the fact that he could die. He just had a fucking orgasm because he almost tipped off a building. And Tony adores that.

"T-Tony?" Comes Peter's wavering voice, thick with sobs and pleasure. "Tony, please, are you there? I'm done. Please, I want to get out." 

Of course, Tony doesn't respond. He's having too much fun to even think of letting him out. 

So Peter starts to push against the box again. Another tip, another whimper. He can't fight without pushing the box further over the edge. But he needs to get out. Tony isn't there. Either that or he doesn't want to let him out. Which is fine, really. Peter hasn't used their safe word. It isn't too much. Not quite yet.

Peter is still for a little while, trying to relax again. He doesn't have any intention of dying today, after all. 

After a while of waiting, hoping that Tony would let him out, Peter decides to try again. So he calls out to Tony. Calls out, trying to get out. He's done. He wants to go back and rest in Tony's arms. He wants to be held. He's tired of being trapped and scared. 

But again, Tony doesn't help. He doesn't even try. His breath hitches when Peter starts to sob.

"Vulture!" Peter screams, choking on his sobs. "Vulture! Tony, please!! Please let me out!!! Vulture!!"

Tony's heart stops. But just as he makes a move toward Peter. Just as he's moving closer to get him out, the box tips. And plummets. 

Peter's screaming changes, at this point. It's not pleading anymore. It's not aroused panic. It's real fear. He's terrified. He's going to die. He's falling, and he's going to die. 

Tony bolts toward the edge of the tower, leaping off before the armour is even starting to form over his skin. He positions himself to be as streamlined as possible, heart thudding painfully. He wasn't ready for Peter to fall. He didn't want him to fall. Not after he used their safe word.

Tony's heart breaks as he watches the box fall. It seems to fall faster and faster. The armour is on, and he's boosting toward the box as it gets closer and closer to the ground. He's almost got it. He reaches out, eyes wide with panic. His fingertips graze the edge of the box. Missing. It tilts over to the side, and Peter screams even louder.

The boy's stomach lurches as he crashes into something. He has no idea what it was. Moments later, there's another source of impact. Something decidedly more firm. Much larger. And much, much harder. 

There's a crack. Several cracks. And then Peter feels hot. There's something wet running down his face. He's crying. But it tastes awful. It tastes metal. 

It tastes like blood.

Tony gets to the ground a second later. A second too late. He sees the blood coming from the corner of the box. He sees the stain it leaves on the sidewalk. 

Everyone who had started to crowd around the box backs up when they see Iron Man landing beside it. 

He opens the box and is greeted by decidedly the worst thing he could see. Peter's eyes are unfocused, blinking in the bright sunlight. His pants are stained with both cum and what appears to be piss. His arms look... wrong. And there's blood on his head.

"No..." Tony breathes, falling to his knees beside Peter. "No, baby I'm here. I'm sorry. Peter, you're gonna be okay. You'll be fine, okay? It's alright..." 

Peter tries to look at him. He really does. And he tries to move a hand up. But he can't. He just whimpers. He can't really feel much, which is good. Or at least he assumes it's good. What he can make out on Tony's face doesn't look good. 

"Tony," he croaks out, voice barely working. "V-vulture, Tony... m done... I..."

Tony shakes his head, starting to cry in earnest now. He sits down, gently pulling Peter into his lap. He doesn't care about the blood. He doesn't care about any of the mess. He just wants to hold Peter. He needs to make it up to him. 

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. I'm here. You're gonna be okay. No more. I promise. I promise..." 

So Peter closes his eyes, allowing his head to fall into Tony's neck. Tony feels as his breathing slows down a bit. That could be good or bad. He holds his own breath, waiting.

Peter's gotten hurt before. He's gotten hurt really badly. He's almost died before, in battles. And he recovered. He has healing abilities. He'll be fine, right? He'll be okay, and Tony will be more careful next time.

Then he hears it. The tell-tale click. Tony watches as Peter's arm starts to almost pull itself back together. His fingers go back to a normal angle. His shoulder goes back into its socket with a chunk. 

Peter's breath hitches softly, and he puffs out a hot breath against Tony's neck. 

Tony is sobbing by this point. Relieved. Peter's gonna be okay. He'll be fine. It might take a little while, but he'll be fine. 

The gash leaking blood from the back of Peter's head starts to mend itself as the other arm pops into place as well. 

A few cracks and his ribs go back to normal. He's able to breathe much better now. Much, much better.

They stay in place for a few hours as Peter's body heals itself. Tony never moves. He never shifts. Never pushes Peter off. He just holds him still as he heals. He brushes the hair, matted with blood, out of Peter's face. He kisses the boy's forehead gently. Murmurs soft words of encouragement. He's got him. He'll be okay. They'll both be okay. 

Finally, Tony stands. He carries Peter carefully back inside. He gets him settled in the tub, careful to make sure that he won't slip and drown in the water. Peter's breathing has evened out now, and he sounds so much better. 

Tony starts to gently wash him as his body continues to mend.

By the time Peter is fully healed, Tony has him cleaned and changed into some soft and comfortable clothes. He lies on the bed with him, arms wrapped around him. Finally, Peter wakes up. He's still kind of out of it. He doesn't remember much of what happened at first. He knows it was bad, though. He traces his fingers along his arms and his head, right where the injuries had been. He tests out his ability to breathe. 

"I'm so sorry, Peter," Tony breathes, kissing his jaw gently. "I'm never doing that again. It's okay. I've got you now, okay? I won't let you get hurt again." 

Peter doesn't know what to say, so he doesn't say anything at all. He just stays close to Tony, letting himself finish healing. 

He ends up falling asleep again, and Tony cries silently. He can't believe he let that happen. He can't believe he hurt his boy that badly.

Hours later, Peter wakes up. And he wakes up hungry. Tony trips over himself trying to get him something to eat. He makes his favourite foods and doesn't let Peter get out of the bed to eat it. He gently massages out all the stiff muscles. He may be healed but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt. 

Tony gets him some good pain meds, too. And he kisses Peter until he's able to relax and feel better. 

"I'm sorry, baby. I don't know if you heard me before. You were still really out of it," Tony says softly, crying. "I'm so sorry. I promise. Never again." 

Peter nods a little, very carefully. He doesn't hold it against Tony. He's scared, and he isn't sure he wants to do anything else again. 

"It's okay, Tony. It's okay," he says quietly. "It's alright. I didn't mean to get hurt. I didn't mean to fall." 

For the thousandth time that day, Tony's heart shatters. How dare Peter apologize? How dare he blame himself for this? 

"It's not your fault, baby," Tony says softly, kissing Peter's tears away. "It's not your fault. I'm sorry I couldn't catch you. I love you." 

"I love you, too. It's okay. We're okay, right?"

"We're okay."


End file.
